


A Kind of Magic

by DaisyFloyd



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Adorable, Based on a Queen Song, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Queen is the best, Romance, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16632044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFloyd/pseuds/DaisyFloyd
Summary: Roger has been thinking about a certain melody for quite some time. His best friend and bandmate, Brian, is his main source of inspiration to write the lyrics.Maybe this secret confession could lead to something else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Please note that:  
> \- This work is fictional.  
> \- English is not my first language.  
> \- I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone mentioned in this story.  
> Enjoy!

Roger held his pencil on his hand, touching his lips with it. He couldn’t think of words to match the melody that had been sounding in his mind for the past few days. Alone in his bedroom, sitting at his desk next to the window, he looked up at the sky like it could give him an answer. It was coloured in a dark shade of grey, something common for the country he was born in. The crystal was tarnished thanks to the humidity of the air, and that made the landscape behind it look blurry.

He didn’t even change his clothes since the moment he got back home from the studio, and was still wearing his favourite white jacket. It had been a busy day, practicing and recording. Roger yawned, blinked a few times, and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. The room was gloomy, and the night was silent.

His blue eyes went back to the paper in front of him. He took another pencil and used it to hit the surface of the desk, like an improvised drum, trying to keep a rhythm that matched the melody inside his head. Roger hummed to the beat, it was all starting to come together. Suddenly, two words came to his mind. He wrote them down quickly, afraid of forgetting his idea before having the opportunity of registering it.

_One dream_

_‘That makes sense_.’ Roger thought as he sighed. He was quite tired now, but he couldn’t go to sleep until he had put lyrics to this damned song. The young man looked at his bed, stood up and took his jacket off, then dropped it above the white sheets. When Roger observed his jacket again he noticed a long, curled and dark hair contrasting with the light surface. Even in the absence of much light he was able see it.

_One soul_

He ran back to his desk, and dropped the pencil when trying to write. He got on his knees and touched the floor, searching for it and cursing at himself because of his clumsiness. When he found it, he wrote the two words with his messy handwriting. Good, he had four words now. _‘Something is better than anything. ‘_

Roger looked again at his bed, and took the dark hair on his hands.

“Damn it, Brian. That dead rat of yours is starting to fall apart.” He said chuckling childishly.

He knew Brian couldn’t hear him, and Roger laughed at his own joke. He didn’t mind to find that single hair, it was pretty to look at after all. Roger closed his eyes while caressing the thread carefully, and pictured his friend at the studio, tuning his guitar. He always had that serious expression when he tuned it, frowning a bit, and Roger always made funny comments about it to make him smile.

The drummer sat again at his desk, and dropped the dark hair above the paper. Roger stared at it, trying to come up with some ideas to continue. His inspiration source wasn’t at his side right now, and that made Roger frustrated. The single hair, still on top of the paper and making little circular shapes on it, remembered the drummer of the way Brian’s hair danced in the air on windy days.

_One prize, one goal_

Roger looked at the words and nodded, like if he was approving himself. Maybe he could make a good song out of this. He spent a little over thirty minutes trying to come up with the next words, but nothing matched the melody. Roger was confident that he could finish the song that night. However, after a few minutes his imagination appeared to have died. Just when he decided to finally go to sleep, someone knocked the door four times. He recognized instantly that code. It was _their_ code.   

“Hey...” Brian greeted his bandmate, opening the door just a bit and holding something behind his back. “You forgot something at the studio.”

“What did I forget?” Roger smiled, and that always made his face look brighter. He approached the door and opened it entirely. That hurt his eyes a little, because of the big difference in illumination between his dark room and the hallway. In his dreams, this was the moment when Brian said that he forgot to kiss him before leaving, but unfortunately for Roger, this wasn’t a dream.

“These.” Briand handed Roger his drumsticks, looking down at them. His hair always looked fluffy and soft, even more when the light source was behind him, like at that moment. “What would happen if you lose them?”

“Oh.” Roger tried not to sound disappointed, and maintained his smile. “Thank you. I’d probably go crazy if that ever happens.”

“I still think that all drumsticks are the same.” Said Brian as he gave them to the drummer.

“How dare you?” Roger asked in a high-pitched voice, and pointed at the hallway with one drumstick. “Get out of my sight!”

Brian could easily take it from his hand. Roger looked at him with fake angriness, only to laugh after and try to get back his beloved item, which was a gift from John for Roger’s last birthday.

“Give it back! It’s not fair!” He laughed, extending his arms in a failed attempt to regain his favourite gift ever. Roger noticed that he was accidentally hugging Brian, and got a great idea. Roger tickled Brian’s neck.

“Don’t do that!” The guitarist giggled. “I surrender. Don’t torture me.” Brian gave his friend his drumsticks, smiling.

“Go away.” Roger closed the door, pushing Brian out, as they both laughed.

“Goodnight, Rog.” The guitarist said in a sweet voice, at the other side of the door.

“Goodnight to you too, Bri.” Roger smiled, and heard Brian’s steps fading in the silence of the night.

Now, he was alone. Roger sighed and giggled, before leaving his drumsticks on his desk. Without even thinking about it, he took the pencil once again.

_One golden glance of what should be_

Maybe he could make a good song out of that idea, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

“And you say I’m the clumsy one.” Roger laughed, while John placed one of the cymbals of his friend’s drum kit back on its place. 

The two friends were alone at the studio. John had always been an early bird, and Roger was used to be dragged to the studio by the bassist when the sun hadn’t even raised yet. John liked to have everything organized and properly set up before starting to practise. He didn’t like to be alone, so Roger was obliged to accompany him, as he was the only one that was willing to wake up at six in the morning almost every day of the week just because of John.

Freddie and Brian were most likely still asleep, and Roger wished he was asleep too, but seeing John make messes was always funnier than sleeping. It was worth it, just for the opportunity to see the bassist giggling nervously like a kid when he forgets to feed the golden fish.

“I’m really, really sorry.” Said the guilty John, while polishing the cymbal’s surface with his sleeve. “I must have tripped with that wire over there.”

“Don’t worry.” Roger looked at him and smiled, to demonstrate that he wasn’t mad because of what happened. “Just don’t break anything. Neither yourself.”

John nodded. Roger appeared to have an idea, and wrote something in a little notebook that laid on top of the floor tom. The naturally curious Deaky couldn’t help but ask.

“What’s that?” He leaned over to see, and Roger sighed.

“Some… attempt of a song.” The blond man answered plainly, combing himself with his hands. Then he handed the notebook to John, who read the few phrases that were written in it.

“ _One shaft of light that shows the way, no mortal man can win this day_ ” Deaky quoted, and giggled. “I like it.” Roger took his notebook back. “Who is she?”

“Why did I see that question coming?” Roger sounded annoyed, but he couldn’t be angry at John. After all, he was John. What kind of monster could be angry at him? “It’s not about a she, you silly.”

“It’s a _he_ , then?” Deaky raised an eyebrow.

“Wh-What? Why- No! What the hell, John?” Those high-pitched stuttering questions made the bassist laugh.

John left his friend at the soundproof room, to sit in the middle chair at the other side of the crystal. The drummer looked at him and made a gesture his friend understood immediately. Roger winked, and John closed the door.

Roger held his drumsticks firmly, closed his eyes and let his muscle memory guide him. John listened carefully, delighted by the sound. Then, Roger stopped for a few seconds and changed songs. At the other side of the glass, the bassist looked at him with curiosity and a soft smile upon his face.

After a few seconds he started humming, his voice intertwined melodically with the music he played using his drums, and the hi-hat’s metallic sound. His eyes, still closed. Focused and relaxed, Roger was so absorbed by his own playing he didn’t notice the arrival of Freddie and Brian. They took their seats, at each side of John, and watched the drummer do his thing. When he opened his eyes, he saw his bandmates smiling approvingly and that motivated him to continue playing.

“We have a good drummer.” Freddie said like it was news, and that made John giggle.

“A brilliant drummer, I must say.” Brian sounded like if he was correcting Freddie, who smiled when Brian praised Roger.

“And a good singer, also.” John commented, proud of his friend.

Roger hit the cymbal that John had previously tossed, and it fell carrying the hi-hat with it. Roger stood silent for a bit, staring at the cymbal on the floor. Then, he looked at John through the glass and screamed.

“Damn it, Deaky!”

“I’m so, so sorry!” John’s face turned red as he waved his hands in the air, ashamed and guilty again. 

Freddie couldn’t stop laughing, looking at John’s worried expression and red cheeks. The singer started to cough, but continued laughing.

Brian opened the microphone, smiling. 

 “That was amazing Rog!” Brian opened the microphone and clapped. “How do you call it?”

“ _Failed_   _Attempt of a Song: The Fall of the Cymbal, John Returns._ ” The drummer answered, making his drumsticks rotate on his fingers.

"Quite long." Freddie looked at John, who covered his face with his hands, still saying that he was sorry. 

“It doesn’t have a name yet.” Roger said. 

“Well, I like it.” Freddie said, still coughing a bit.

“I like it very much.” Brian reassured.

Roger’s cheeks went a little red, and he smiled shyly. His blue eyes admiring Brian, his perfection, and his kind expression. He noticed that he was acting like a stupid teenager in love, so he tried to hide it but failed miserably. Brian had already noticed, but his smile didn’t disappear.

“Are you alright, Rog?” Freddie asked, looking at the sweet expression in the drummer’s face.  

“N- Ye-Yes, why not?” He stuttered.

“What the hell did you do to him?” The lead singer looked at Brian, who laughed in response.

“We have to record.” John remembered his bandmates.

“You are right, dear. Come on, follow the hysterical queen.” Freddie stood up and entered the soundproof room, followed by Brian and John.


	3. Chapter 3

“What are you up to, Rog?” Brian asked, watching his friend almost fall asleep holding a guitar.

Deaky left a little over an hour ago, and Freddie went to visit Mary. Brian was putting the Red Special inside its cover carefully. He wouldn’t want his greatest treasure to get scratched or anything like that. Meanwhile, Roger strummed a few chords on his acoustic guitar and hummed. He was way too ashamed to sing the lyrics next to his friend while they were alone, knowing that they were referred to him, even though Brian had no clue about that. He could flirt with his friend every now and then, but for Roger those lyrics meant too much. He couldn’t just strip his feelings like that.

It was quite late, a cold Friday night. A red scarf around Roger’s neck made him similar to a kid using oversized clothes. It was way too long and wide, but his mother insisted that he should use it. Roger couldn’t say no to his mother, so he gave up a bit of his dignity and walked around with an almost two meters scarf. Even though he would say that he didn’t like it, he did. It still had Mrs. Taylor’s sweet perfume, and Roger was certainly mommy’s baby boy.

Brian also liked the scarf. Roger looked adorable using it, even though he didn’t like it when Brian said it.

“I almost got this.” The drummer affirmed, while his fingers marked an E chord on the neck of the instrument. He made a succession of chords, and then stopped. Roger regarded his notebook again, took the pencil and wrote a few words.

_The bell that rings inside your mind_

_Is challenging the doors of time_

With Brian this close, Roger couldn’t run out of ideas. He just had to look at him, and the words would come flying to his mind instantly.

“But something doesn’t sound right.” The drummer sighed.

“Let me hear it again.” Brian requested, as he moved a chair to sit down in front of roger. He focused of his friend’s hand movements, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what Roger needed to change. “Try that E in minor.” The guitarist said as he lifted his index finger up in the air. He sounded confident.

Roger did the succession again, and nodded. “Way better.” He wrote down the modification, and then glanced at Brian. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the guitar genius of the century.”

“Who is he, then?” Brian inquired, smiling victoriously, almost sure of what the answer was going to be.

“That’s a dumb question.” Stressing the word _‘dumb’,_  Roger continued and said without hesitation: “It’s obviously David Gilmour.”

Brian stood silent.

Roger smiled at his reaction.

“I’m just joking.” The drummer left the guitar at his side, and looked once again at Brian’s eyes. “Jimmy Page.”  

“Alright, then.” Brian said, standing up, sounding quite disappointed.

“I’m not serious.” Roger stood up too, the red scarf around his neck. “Have you heard about that guy, Brian May?” He stepped closer to his friend, and once again met his hazel eyes. “He plays for Queen. He’s quite good… Good-looking, that is. He isn’t a bad guitarist either.”

Brian smiled, a bit timid.

“I’ve been listening to Queen recently.” The guitarist said, playing the same game as Roger. “I like the drummer.”

“Oh…” His expression changed. He knew that Brian wasn’t making a strange remark with any hidden meanings, and that there was no possibility of Brian feeling something similar to what made Roger’s heartbeat faster, but he still felt strange after hearing him. Then, he said in a hesitant voice. “You do?”

“I was wondering if I could ask him to go out with me, tomorrow night.” The guitarist said it naturally, like if it wasn’t a big deal. Needless to say, for Roger it was the biggest deal of the year. “It’s been a long time since the last opportunity we went out together, without John or Freddie.”

“What?” Roger blinked a few times. He wasn’t sure he was hearing right. Did Brian just asked him out?

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?” He could see Roger’s blue eyes. The drummer didn’t know, but for his bandmate and best friend, it was one of the most wonderful sights. Those irises were unique, with their unrepeatable colour. There could be one million persons with blue eyes, but Roger was different. Brian always thought that the most beautiful thing about his eyes was their owner.

“No!” Roger cursed himself inside his head. That acute voice had sounded way too desperate. He cleared his throat and corrected himself. “I mean, no.”

“Could you ask him for me?”

“I’m sure he will be glad to accept.”

“Then I’ll see him tomorrow.”

They both smiled in silence. Brian took his Red Special, and walked towards the door. He turned to see Roger one last time.

 “Good-looking… for a poodle.” Roger giggled.

Brian gave him a sweet gaze, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

_The waiting seems eternity_

He couldn’t stop looking at the clock every five seconds.

“If he ever noticed this is about _him_ , I would be regarded as the cheesiest lad ever.” Roger laughed, writing new words in his notebook.

The song was almost finished, just a few more verses were needed. The young drummer had already written the drums and bass parts for the song, and he would need some help with the guitar. Brian taught his friend to play back when they were still in Smile, but Roger just couldn’t compete. Everything done by Brian was perfect, and this chords needed his touch to reach success.

Roger wasn’t sure if the song would make it into the lists once it was released, but he didn’t really care. The satisfaction of this secret confession was enough for him.

He was alone in his room, looking through the window. He had been waiting for almost forty five minutes by now, and the thought of Brian never knocking the door tried to haunt Roger. Maybe it had been a dream, or some kind of hallucination.

When something it’s too good to be true, then it probably isn’t.

_The day will dawn of sanity_

“Keep those bad thoughts away.” Roger drew a smiley face on the crystal, with his finger.

The night already covered London, but it was brightened by the golden light of the streetlights. It gave everything a shiny appearance, and the sky was clear as it could be. Roger opened the window, and the air was rather warm. He watched people going back home, a few kids following their mother, and a couple walking while holding hands.

Probably Brian forgot about it. Maybe he was too busy with some girl.

No. He knew Brian couldn’t be so cruel. He wasn’t the kind of person that would leave Roger waiting, asking himself why. He was different, Roger was completely sure about it. Impatient, the drummer started tapping the wood of his desk.

And then, he remembered Tim.

Damn it.

Even after all these years he couldn’t get over it. He remembered waiting, waiting for the man that would never come. It was a dark night, with warm and calm wind, just like this one. Why he had lifted Roger’s hopes before leaving him, Roger never knew.

His chest hurt, and his eyes became watery. They shone reflecting the golden light, when the drummer looked at the streets once again.

The door was knocked four times.

The sudden sound made Roger jump. He quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, got out of his bedroom, and headed to the door. He breathed deeply a few times to calm down, before reaching for the lock and turning the key.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor.”

 _‘How on earth can you make my heart beat so fast?’_ Roger thought, looking up at Brian’s face under the dim light. He appeared to be even more perfect that the night before. His mouth turned slightly in a toothless smile, and his eyes shared a calm expression.

“Nice to see you, Mr. May.” They always followed those games, talking in the third person or pretending to not know each other. After so many years of friendship, it was one of those things that they shared and characterised their relationship.

“Did your manager tell you about the meeting I proposed?” Brian asked, with seriousness.

“Indeed. Roger told me about it yesterday.” Roger glanced at Brian like a rockstar with a full schedule, who was not really interested in this conversation. It was pretty difficult, knowing that he had spent the last few hours just waiting for the moment like a child waiting for his parents to come back home.

“I’m here to inquire about your response.”

Roger looked at him in silence, and then smiled. He took the key and locked the door after closing it behind him. Brian felt relieved. He was nervous, too, but he was way better at hiding it than his friend.

“I’m not good at talking so fancy.” Roger put the keys inside his pocket, and walked through the hallway alongside the guitarist. “I’m not an astronomer, you know.”

“So what is your profession?” Brian asked like if he didn’t know the response. He knew his best friend Roger better than he knew himself. 

“I was going to be a dentist. Now you get the name of that band. So, Smile.” He grinned, and Brian laughed.

“You were? And what happened?” They took the elevator without stopping their conversation.

“I got bored, and then I became a biologist. And that bored me too, so now I’m somewhat of a singer, and a drummer. I’ll be a musician until that also bores me. But I don’t think it will bore me in the near future, or ever.” Roger explained.

They crossed the entrance of the building. Outside, London looked even more beautiful and lively. The night was a special time, full of events and things to do, movies to watch and places to visit. Once they stepped on the street, it was turn of Roger to ask.

“Where are we going, Bri?”

Brian smiled, and offered his hand to Roger. He looked at the people around them, stopping for a second to consider what they would think about two guys holding hands, but took it anyway. It was worth it.

“Just you wait.”


	5. Chapter 5

Silently and carefully, Brian guided Roger through a really narrow passage. He had a perfect idea for the night, the clear sky favoured him. Roger was curious about his bandmate’s plan. The drummer looked at his right hand, being held by Brian. It was a strange feeling. They had held hands a million times before, just like best friends, but now it was different. Roger couldn’t help but giggle nervously, and ask again.

“Where are we going? Could you tell me?”

“You’ll see.” The guitarist stopped walking once they reached the other side of the buildings they were crossing. Roger liked this mysterious atmosphere, and even though he hadn’t a clue of where they were going, he felt safe. Brian looked behind Roger. “I hope nobody followed us.”

“With that hair and that height, is like you have a sign that says exactly who you are.” Roger looked at the passage, searching for some crazy fan that would scream and reveal both their location and identity to the entire city. “But I think we’re alone.”

Alone. That was a strange thing for them, lately. If it wasn't Freddie, it was John. And if it wasn't John, it was some girl Brian recently met. They hadn't been alone for more than three hours straight in almost two years. 

_This rage that lasts a thousand years_

Roger couldn't help but feel horrible when Brian looked that way at other people. He just wanted so badly to be the one loved by the guitarist, but he wasn't brave enough to tell him about this feelings. It could ruin their friendship, and his best friend was one of the most important persons in Roger's life. He couldn't handle the thought of Brian not talking to him anymore, or whatever consecuences that dangerous confession could bring. 

“We are almost there.” Brian’s smile seemed to get wider.

“You seem too happy to go ‘ _there’_."Roger laughed quietly, still holding Brian’s hand."Where is ‘ _there’_?” 

A building stood out from the rest. It was incredibly tall, and it seemed very old. Brian looked at it like it was the greatest thing ever, and when his eyes fell in Roger, he pointed at a door that was half-opened. The lock was broken, as well as the chain that was supposed to maintain the door completely closed.

“What?” Roger looked at the door. A white sign indicated that entrance was forbidden, it looked like that place had been shut down a long time ago. More than 10 years, at least. “Can’t you read that sign?” Roger smiled. "Naughty boy."

Brian dragged him in there anyway. The place was incredibly clean for an abandoned building, and it didn’t seem that old on the inside. The walls and floors were intact, and Roger wondered why it was closed in such a good condition.

“You really don’t recognise this place?” The guitarist guided Roger up some marble stairs.

“What are you talking ab-“

The stairs ended, and when Roger looked around, he realized where they were.

It was the Old Royal Observatory of London.

“We loved coming here to see the stars when we were kids.” Brian said in a dreamy voice, and released Roger’s hand. "Do you remember?" 

Roger saw the main telescope, still there, just like back in the old days. Brian approached it, and invited his friend to join him. Roger looked through it, the stars shone like never before and the feeling of Brian’s hand on his shoulder made it even more special.

“It looks wonderful.” The drummer moved away from the telescope, and glanced at Brian. He was smiling, and that made Roger smile too. “Almost magical.”

For a moment, those baby blue eyes transported Brian to the summer of 1960. Roger was ten years old, and Brian had just turned twelve. Their school went on an excursion to the observatory, and since then, the two kids would visit it to see through the telescope every weekend. Brian became the typical kid fan of the universe, obsessed with planets and stars. Roger wasn’t so passionate about it, but he loved to follow his friend and see him so happy when he found the exact position he needed on the telescope to watch a determined planet.

However, astrophysics wasn’t his only new passion. Roger became more and more important in his life, as years passed by.

Brian found that he also loved that warm feeling, every time Roger looked at him in the eyes. It felt different, a new emotion, undiscovered. Like a new planet just waiting to be named.

It was quite magical.

“It’s not my favourite kind of magic, anyway.” Brian whispered, and took Roger’s chin, making him look up. 

Roger wasn't sure if this was reality. His cheeks burnt, seeing Brian so close. 

_Will soon be gone_

The drummer seemed to understand what his friend said, and the meaning behind it. However, the sweet and calm moment was interrupted by lightning, and then thunder.

The two young musicians exited the building, almost running. Brian’s house was closer, so they decided to go there. It wasn’t a good idea to catch a cold when they had to sing the backup vocals for every song they recorded. Freddie wouldn’t be happy.

Laughing like kids, they entered the house.


	6. Chapter 6

“I knew this would happen.” Roger ran his hands through his wet blond hair. Everything was too perfect, something had to happen to ruin it at some point. For Brian, this didn’t ruin anything. He looked at Roger again, and laughed softly.

“You look like a chihuahua after a bath.”

“Shut up.” Roger said with an annoyed tone, and threw his coat at Brian. “You damned poodle.”

“Wanna fight?” Brian smiled.

“Yes!” He challenged his best friend, but immediately changed his opinion when Brian cornered him against the wall. He could easily tickle Roger. “I mean, no!”

Brian lend his friend some clothes for the rest of the night, but everything was too big. The guitarist took a shower, while Roger listened to the radio and softly sang _‘I’m In Love with My Car’._

“You don’t mind sleeping with me tonight, do you?”

Roger wasn’t sure if this were good or bad news. Although he was a bit nervous about it, he had to act normally. Otherwise, Brian could suspect something.

“No, it’s okay.”

During their tours on the seventies, they always shared a bed. John and Freddie would fight for their blankets, but Brian and Roger got along well enough to not try to kill each other. Roger used to sleep resting his head on Brian’s chest, so the guitarist was never cold, and the young drummer enjoyed touching his friend’s hair. That helped him to fall asleep quickly. Brian didn’t mind Roger’s soft snoring, he found it cute. However, those days were long gone by now.

The two musicians rested in Brian’s bed. Roger was never a quiet person, but that night he was incredibly calm. He just didn’t want to say something stupid, but Brian was kind of worried about his sudden silence. But then, Roger couldn’t resist but ask.

“Why did you invite me?” Roger tried not to sound weird. He loved spending time with his bandmate, but it was a necessary question. He wanted to make sure this was a friendship and nothing else, clear his mind, and remember himself that the idea of Brian feeling love towards him was a product of his own imagination.

“I just missed you.”

His quiet voice sounding almost like a whisper made Roger blush slightly. He wasn’t expecting such an answer, and remained silent.

“We used to be together all the time, and now I barely see you outside of the studio. And if I see you, John or Freddie are at your side.”

Roger got closer and rested his head on Brian’s chest. Just like he did so many times on _News of the World_   _Tour_ and all the other tours during that decade. The guitarist touched Roger’s hair, caressing it

“I think I’ve lost you.” That single phrase hurt to pronounce. Brian sighed again.

“It’s not the same as it was, but Bri, you haven’t lost me. We’re still friends, best friends.”

Silence took over for a few minutes.

Roger’s mind was a complete disaster. Ever since he realized how deeply in love he was, he tried to not be suspicious so Brian wouldn’t find out. It started by not hanging out so much with the guitarist outside of the studio, continued with asking John to spend the nights with him during the tours, and it reached the point where Roger was so focused on hiding his secret that he didn’t notice that he had started to come across as colder and colder to his best friend.

“I know about Tim and you.”

“You _what?”_

Roger was sure he had done everything possible to hide that relationship from the rest of the world, including Brian. The drummer sat up and looked at his friend, and he could see disappointment in his eyes. Disappointment and pain.

“He told me everything.” Brian saw those blue eyes again, under the dim light that entered through the window. “I didn’t know you were gay.”

“I’m really sorry for not telling you earlier.” Roger appeared to be regretful. “I didn’t want things to get weird between us” He sighed, but then a little smile formed on his thin lips. “I couldn’t handle the thought of losing my best friend and his curly poodle hair.”

Brian smiled sincerely, and hugged Roger. The drummer corresponded, his arms around Brian’s neck. His fingers were tangled on the dark curls. Both musicians remembered how they used to hug this way after every concert. They hadn’t realized how much they missed this type of contact until now. The two remained silent until eventually Brian’s soft voice delighted Roger’s ears once again.

“Rog?”

“Yes, Bri?” He closed his eyes, still hugging his friend.

“That song you are writing…”

Roger felt his heart stop for a moment.

“It’s about Tim, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond.

He wanted to tell Brian the truth, but he couldn’t. He just wanted to scream, to finally reveal that everything was about him. To finally tell him how much he adored every single aspect of his existence, from his intelligence to how gentle and kind he could be when he saw Roger in a vulnerable moment, like that one. He wanted to kiss him and confess how much he loved him and desired to be loved by him.

What if he didn't feel the same way? 

_This flame that burns inside of me_

His eyes became watery, and when the guitarist broke the hug and saw him, he seemed worried.

“Please, don’t cry.” He whispered, as Roger covered his face with his hands.

“I’m tired, Brian, it's  _so fucking difficult._ I can’t handle it anymore, and I can’t continue hiding this. It _hurts_.”

The guitarist obviously though that heartbreaking phrase was referred to Roger and Tim’s breakup.

“I’m here for you.”  Brian wiped Roger’s tears carefully and gently, and cupped his face. "And I promise I'll help you through it. Don't worry, pretty boy."

They hugged again. Roger rested his head on Brian's chest until he eventually fell asleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

The curtains weren’t completely closed and the thin rays of sunshine that managed to find their way into the dark room woke Roger up from his sleep.

At first, he was a bit lost. His sleepy state didn’t allow him to recall what had happened the night before. It wasn’t until he looked down and saw he was wearing huge light blue pyjamas that he noticed he was in Brian’s room, more specifically, in his bed. He remembered their peculiar night out, the cold rain, the guitarist’s masculine perfume and their late night conversation. Roger still felt guilty for worrying Brian, but he had certainly enjoyed using him as a pillow again.

He stepped on the cold floor, barefoot, and opened the door slightly. Roger could hear his bandmate singing gently, while setting the table for breakfast. The radio could be heard in the background, in a low volume.

Roger stood there for a minute, remembering the late sixties. They lived together for a couple years during their time in Smile, and this morning made Roger remember how it was to wake up every day living with Brian. The day started in a different mood, much better than waking up to find nobody home.

The drummer finally opened the door and walked to the kitchen, where he found Brian humming and preparing two cups of tea.

“I’ll have to call the inspectors.” Roger shook his head, observing his surroundings. The kitchen couldn’t be cleaner and tidier. “This place is in unacceptable condition.”

“Such an exaggeration.” Brian smiled, and looked at his young friend. Roger was always a wonderful mess when he woke up: tangled light locks, clumsy movements, and a raspy voice between many yawns.

“Are you going to try and poison me, witch?” Roger took a strawberry from a bowl above the table, filled with perfectly cut fruits.

“Maybe.” Brian put the two cups on the table. Roger sat down next to the window, and waited for his friend to join him.

“So what are today’s potions?” Roger yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Just the usual, with a lot of sugar, as you like.”

“I was expecting some incredible spells for your special guest.”

They talked about irrelevant matters for a while, until their cups were empty and Roger had eaten all the strawberries.

“Thank you for everything, it was lovely.” Roger smiled and yawned again. “But I should go home now.”

“So you can go back to cry at your dark corner?” Brian raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly!” The drummer laughed, but it was somewhat true. His friend noticed that.

“I’m not letting you go.” Brian affirmed. “I want you to forget about Tim, and going back to suffer in silence won't do any good to that pretty head of yours.”

“Look, Bri. I’m okay, really.” Roger quickly made up an excuse, and tried to sound as sincere as possible. “Forget about yesterday, I was stressed and I said some stupid th-“

“Don’t lie to me, Roger.” Brian interrupted, and crossed his arms. “I’ve known you for a long time. When you look down like that, and you do that thing with your hair, it’s because you are lying.”

Roger stood silent for a second, and realized that the guitarist wasn’t mistaken. The drummer would always touch a lock of his own hair and look down every now and then when he was lying.

“Damn it, Brian.” Roger giggled, defeated.

“So?” He smiled again, victorious. “What do you say?”

“I need some time to think about it.” Roger glanced through the window, while trying to come up with a better excuse to convince Brian.

“Alright, I’ll give you four seconds.” He sat back and waited for a response.

“Wait, what?”

“I promised I would help you, and I’m doing so.”

“Brian, this really isn’t a good idea. I’m _okay._ “ He tried to emphasize the last word, but Brian wouldn’t buy it.

“Do you really want to have an argument? Because I know you aren’t okay and I’m taking you home whether you like it or not. “

“I’m serious. This is not a good idea. “

“Come on Roger, I miss you and you miss me. It’s going to be just like it was, two friends doing stupid things all day. I can have someone to talk about stars with, and you can have someone to use as a pillow. Everyone wins. “

Roger sighed.

“And I bet you hadn’t had breakfast in a really long time, lazy boy.” The guitarist grinned, he was right.

“Why are you so damn nice? Shut up, it’s annoying, stop it.”

“This is going to be the best decision you have ever made, between many stupid decisions like dating that bastard.” To hear Brian insulting somebody was a strange thing, one of those that only happened once every couple of years.

“Don’t say that. “ Even though Tim wasn’t the nicest person alive, Roger couldn’t get rid of his affection for him. “He is-”

“He hurt you.”

A few seconds passed, in silence. The drummer knew Brian was just trying to help but he wasn’t sure of what was worst: go back to live alone, or stay and be remembered every single day of the fact that his friend wouldn’t look at him in any romantic way.

Roger sighed, and searched for Brian’s eyes. They were locked on his blue irises.

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m alright, Brian, trust me.” At this point, he was starting to sound like a child. Denying the facts wasn’t the most intelligent thing to do, but it was his only option.

“Roger…” His heart ache every time he heard Brian pronounce his name like that. His accent, his low voice, and the expression on his face that accompanied the word were just too much.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He responded quickly, and tried to avoid eye contact.

“We don’t _have_ to.”

“Then, shut up.”

“I won’t, until you give me one of those wonderful smiles of yours.”

Roger couldn’t stay angry for more than two seconds, before a sweet smile made his face even more beautiful.

“How come you always know what to say?”

“I’m an astronomer.” Brian made a gesture, like if he was tying his tie.

“Oh, yeah! That explains everything!” Roger laughed sarcastically, and their day begun on a good note.


	8. Chapter 8

After a rather long day, Roger sat down on the sofa with Brian. The guitarist had been writing a rock ballad for a soundtrack, and he wanted some criticism from his closest friend before showing it to the rest of the band. Roger was always the first in his list to read his works, and he would always come up with ideas to improve them and make everything better. Now, he held the paper with his left hand and read in silence, concentrated, establishing the tempo by snapping his fingers on the other hand. The song would probably make it into the album, which had no title yet.

At first Roger was decided to not let Brian get away with his intentions this time, but his friend insisted so much that the drummer couldn’t help but submit. He would move in with his bandmate next week, and Brian was as happy as a child in an amusement park, in a good mood and smiling constantly. It remembered Roger of all of that he was missing out on, after such a long time being rather separated from him.

 _“Who wants to live forever…?”_ Roger finally said, and Brian looked at him. The younger musician smiled a little. “Well, it’s depressing.”

“Oh, I…”

“I’m kidding. It’s beautiful, too beautiful for a soundtrack.” Roger giggled, and read out loud two lines: _“Touch my tears with your lips. Touch my world with your fingertips.”_

Brian knew Roger was just reading, but he liked to imagine he wasn’t. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he was glad the drummer couldn’t see him because his eyes were still on the paper. Brian took advantage of that momentary distraction to appreciate Roger’s blond hair, his blue eyes traveling through the words written on the white paper, and his hands that seemed to be warm and soft, those hands Brian desired to hold.

“You are an amazing poet.”

“Thank you.” Brian took the paper from Roger’s hand, and asked: “And how’s your song going?”

“I think I’ll just fill that part with some humming.” Roger unfolded another piece of paper, and pointed at some parts of the text that were filled with dashes. “Freddie sounds great anyway.”

“Can I help you?” His friend asked politely, and grinned.

“No.” Brian and his ‘ _please_ ’ expression made Roger quickly change his answer.  “Well, maybe.”

“You just need some inspiration.” The guitarist affirmed confidently. “The song is about…” He suddenly realized that reminding Roger of Tim probably wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t know the song was _never_ about their former friend. “No, forget about that, don’t say his name. Change the subject of the song. Think about someone else.”

“Alright…” Roger giggled and pretended to search inside his mind for a new subject, with his hand on his chin. After a few seconds of silence, he declared: “Got it. The song is about _somebody._ ”

“ _Somebody_ , most definitely not him.”

“No, not him.”

“Maybe you can describe how you feel…” Brian looked at the text on the paper, and the dashes that were to be replaced with words. “Yes, a short description that has just a few syllables, so you can put it here and there.” He said, touching the ink with his index finger.

“And in the chorus.” Roger pointed at the middle of the manuscript. He felt a little ashamed of his own handwriting, knowing Brian’s was so much clearer and prettier.

“And in the chorus, with some additions.” Brian nodded, and smiled. He had an idea.

“So what’s the plan?” Roger asked, noticing his friend’s expression.

“Brian May for BBC News.” The guitarist pretended to hold a microphone. “Today we are going to interview Mr. Taylor, a successful rockstar and most likely the best drummer ever…”

“Oh, hello, and thank you.” Roger grinned a bit, joining the game.

“Could you tell us what was your main source of inspiration to write this hit?”

 _‘Obviously you, silly poodle, can’t you see?’_ Roger thought as he giggled, but he wasn’t going to reveal that information. He decided to be way less specific, but he didn’t lie to Brian.

“ _Someone_ special in my life.” He responded vaguely, as his friend held the invisible microphone in front of him.

“Not a bassist from a small band you were in before Queen, I suppose.” Brian wanted to be sure. He raised an eyebrow.

“No, no.” Roger shook his head, and Brian whispered something in the lines of _‘I’ll strangle him’_ in a fake angry tone and making a gesture with his hand. Roger laughed.

“And how do you feel when you are with that someone?”

“It’s…” This was probably the bravest thing Roger had done in a while. If Brian found out, it would probably be over for him and their friendship. Roger was walking on a thin line. “…unreal.”

“Could you explain to me exactly what you mean?”

“Well, it’s a unique sensation, which I’m only able to feel when that someone is at my side. Something unknown, foreign, extraordinary.”

“That’s great. It’s a good sensation or a rather bad one?”

“No, no, it’s really good.” The drummer met Brian’s eyes once again, and continued with a dreamy tone. “Makes me wonder how I was able to live without it for so long.”

“Now it’s an essential feeling for you?” Brian was really into this conversation, and he wanted to find out who that person was.

“Yeah, it’s necessary for me.” Roger placed a hand above his own chest, like if he was feeling his heartbeat. “Everything is better with that warm, precious feeling in my heart.”

“That’s really adorable.” Brian smiled. “Can you summarize all that in a phrase?”

“I don’t know. It’s just too complex to explain shortly.” Roger began to think of a way to resume everything he loved about Brian, from his sweet and tender laughs to his masculine perfume, the wonderful sight of his tangled hair hiding his face in the morning, his warm hands caressing Roger’s face the previous night… “Almost unexplainable, now that I think about it.” When Roger looked again at Brian and saw his hazel eyes, the words came out naturally. _“It’s a kind of magic.”_

“There it is!”

“What? _A kind of magic?”_

“And that was Brian May for BBC News.” Brian smiled brightly, and the invisible microphone disappeared.

“ _A kind of magic_ … you are right!” Roger quickly searched for a pen to write it down, but he gave it to Brian instead. His handwriting made it look better. “Write this...”

_Is this a kind of magic?_

“And under that, write…”

_There can be only one._

“I’m a genius.” The drummer looked happy, and satisfied with how the song came out to be.

“Shouldn’t you thank the best guitarist ever for helping?” Brian crossed his arms, and Roger looked around, excited.

“Where’s David Gilmour?”

“You disrespectful child.” Brian sounded like an angry father. He tickled Roger, who quickly got up from the sofa to hide somewhere. “Come back here!”

“Catch me if you can!”


	9. Chapter 9

It was a windy Monday morning, and the only one that was awake enough to want to work was John. Brian tuned his Red Special, and Roger was almost falling asleep over his drums when Freddie entered the room. He was late, as always, and the other members of the band were used to wait for him. This album seemed to take an eternity to finish, and this working rhythm wasn’t helping.

“I’m sorry my dears, I had a perfect excuse for why I’m late today, but I forgot it on the way here.” Freddie admitted, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face. John sighed, Brian and Roger just accepted it. None of them was upset about it.

“Just grab the microphone and work.” Brian said, and Freddie grinned.

The hours passed, the vocals for _One Vision_ were finally recorded, John took a break and shared the sandwiches he had proudly made, and  _Friends Will Be Friends_ was finished. It was an overall productive day. At a determined moment, Roger held the manuscript of his most recent song, and threw it above the table.

It went by smoothly. Actually, John really liked the bass parts. He looked like a child with a new toy, smiling all the way through the recording session. Freddie was motivated by that and sang with his heart and soul, as he always did. Roger was fascinated with how Brian’s guitar solo turned out to be, and his drums weren’t a minor part of this new track.

“I really, really like it.” John admitted as the whole band listened to the final result, the four of them sitting on their respective chairs. “It’s catchy.”

“Sounds perfect.” The guitarist said, and glanced at Roger.

“I think we should name the album after this one.” The lead singer looked at his friends for approval, Briand and John nodded without doubting.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” The author asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Darling, you don't need to be modest.” Freddie took Roger’s cheeks like if he was a granny greeting her grandson. “Look, this time, you don’t have to lock yourself in a cupboard to get your song-“

“I’ll fucking murder you.” Roger interrupted and he sounded serious. He didn’t like it when someone mentioned that occasion before the release of _A Night at the Opera_ , but he didn’t regret what he had done: _I’m In Love with My Car_ was worth it. Freddie instantly put his hands away from the drummer’s face after hearing his affirmation, and Brian laughed at this reaction.

“Alright, we get it, we don’t talk about that incident.” The singer continued. “So, what do you think? We release a magical album or not?”

“Whatever…” The drummer rolled his eyes.

“Now we are wizards!” John exclaimed, moving his fingers in the air like if he was casting some type of spell.

“Witches, dear.” Freddie corrected the bassist, and a general laugh took place.

It was time to finish for today. John accompanied Freddie to visit Mary Austin, while Roger and Brian headed to Roger’s flat. He offered to cook supper and Brian wouldn’t say no, his friend was a good chef and that lasagna he always made was just delicious.

“Makes me think…” Brian analysed the slice of lasagna on his fork, like if he was trying to solve a complex equation.

“About what?” Roger inquired, drinking from his

“… That chef from our tour in Japan. Now that I notice it, you seemed way too interested in that Italian guy.” He tried to sound disappointed, lengthening the vocals in his words to give emphasis. Roger started coughing, most likely choking on his food. Brian laughed.

 “I’m not talking about that with you!” Roger screamed, pointing at Brian with his fork.

“So you actually, like, _did_ something with him?” Brian seemed astonished.  “ _Mamma mia_ , I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh my God, no!” He coughed again. “Never!”

They continued talking about trivial stuff, and Brian spoke with a really bad Italian accent. It annoyed Roger, who threatened to never cook lasagna again if he didn’t stop. Obviously, Brian wanted to keep his lasagna.

“So, how was it?”

“I can get used to this.” Brian laid back on his chair.

“Don’t.” Roger giggled, and pretended he hadn’t noticed Brian had unbuttoned his shirt just a bit. It was making Roger kind of nervous.

“Let me do the dishes.” He got up, but Roger stopped him by holding his arm.

“Guests shouldn’t do that.”

“But I’m rebellious and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Wow, such a rule breaker.” Sarcastically, Roger acted as if he was surprised. Brian was just too nice sometimes. “You are a dangerous man.”

“Absolutely.”

Someone knocked the door, and Brian whispered a _‘go’_ as he took the plates to the kitchen. Roger wondered who it could be, and approached to door. He opened it without looking through the peephole, and regretted it immediately.

“Good evening, Roger.”  

“Tim?”


	10. Chapter 10

Tim smiled, and that simple thing made Roger remember every bit of their relationship with painful detail. He wasn’t able to process what was going on for a couple seconds. He felt like he was transported back to that warm night in London, when he patiently waited for Tim to show up to what was going to be their last date. The calm wind came to his mind again. He blinked a few times before he could articulate a coherent phrase.

“Why are you here?” He tried to make himself sound confident and unaffected, but instead his voice came across as hesitant and hurt. It was difficult to hide, way more difficult than he thought at first. He wanted to just close the door and force him to leave, but he couldn’t.

“I need to talk with you.” Tim appeared to be unusually polite, but nothing could erase the horrible insults he had thrown at his former boyfriend the last time they met.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Roger aimed to close the door, but Tim wouldn’t let him. The drummer looked at Tim’s eyes and his heart ache. However, when he recalled Tim’s bright smile alongside that guy that was easily ten years younger than him, his sorrow was replaced with bitter angriness.

“Just a minute, please.” He almost whispered, trying to sound nice. This only made Roger upset.

“You think you can come here and act a little good boy?” He raised his voice without noticing. “You think I don’t remember what you did? Because I do, I do remember it damn well.”

Brian was at the kitchen, listening carefully to the conversation.

“Roger, you don’t have to be unreasonable. Calm down.” He was slowly losing his patience. Definitely, this was taking longer than he had expected.

“Who the hell are you calling unreasonable?” Roger was closing his fists so much it hurt. “You called me a slut, and now you want this slut’s forgiveness?”

Roger could seem quite harsh and rowdy, but when it came to feelings Tim knew exactly what buttons to press. The first time, the drummer had forgiven him. The second time, too. But the third time was enough for Roger. The pain wasn’t worth it… and Brian’s smile had completely captivated him by then. 

“Why don’t you go and fuck other men like you did when we were something?”

After hearing Roger say that, Brian knew this was getting out of hand. He didn’t hesitate to intervene, and having excellent ideas in just a matter of seconds was something he was skilful at. He approached the door casually, and when Tim saw him, he was rather impressed.

“Good evening, Timothy.” Brian smiled. “Nice to see you again.” When he looked at Roger he noticed he was more than visibly angry, but also his eyes were glimmering. The last thing Brian wanted in the world was to see Roger cry.

Much to Roger’s surprise, Brian hugged him from behind. His slender arms holding him tight took Roger out of the conversation for a second, until he understood what was happening. As always, he decided to follow his bandmate’s idea.

“Is he bothering you, sweetheart?” Brian asked in a low voice, locking his eyes on the undesired visit.

“Tim was about to leave.” Roger grinned, and for a moment he was the happiest person on Earth.

Tim couldn’t be more disgusted by this sight, and Roger’s smile couldn’t be wider.

“So you are his bitch now?” Although this comment was clearly directed to the younger musician, it bothered Brian more than it bothered Roger, and led him to release his friend and step forward.

“Say that again.” He dared Tim, and Roger was startled by his bandmate’s attitude.

“I came here to talk to him, not to you.” The visitor replied with an insolent tone.

“Too bad, you’re already doing so.” Brian sounded really annoyed. The drummer touched his arm, as a signal for him to calm down.

“I think you get it.” Roger said looking at Tim, who rolled his eyes.

Tim muttered _‘we’ll talk later’_ , and Brian deliberately closed the door in his face after wishing him a beautiful night. The strange mixture of rudeness and politeness made Roger giggle. Tim left, seeing he had no other option.

“I can’t thank you enough for that.” Roger rubbed his eyes, he had managed to not let the tears come out. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He winked, and his friend laughed nervously. Well, now to Tim’s eyes, they weren’t exactly ‘friends’.

“Did you know about…?” Roger was more than ashamed. He felt stupid, really stupid for letting that past relationship affect him so much and for allowing Tim to play with him like if it didn’t matter at all.

Brian and Tim’s conversation a few months earlier wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. He had showed up in one of Freddie’s post-gig parties, and when Brian saw him, he greeted his former bandmate nicely. They had a few drinks, and when Tim saw Roger dancing around with John, he told Brian about their _‘difficult past’,_ as he called it. How Roger was a horrible cheater, to sum up.

“He told me it was the other way around.”

“Brian, I swear-” He couldn’t even finish his desperate attempt to explain everything, because he didn’t need to.

“I didn’t believe it one second, Roger.”

The drummer sighed in relief after hearing these words.

“I don't know what he wants, but I hope he doesn’t come back.”

“He won’t if I’m with you.” Brian smiled, he sounded confident.

“You can’t stay at my side forever.” He laughed softly, and before he could thank his friend again, Brian said something that warmth his heart.

“I’ll prove you wrong.”                                                                                                                                                                                            


	11. Chapter 11

Roger sat on his stool, surrounded by his drum kit, while he toyed with his drumsticks and hummed _Friends Will Be Friends._ Finally, the album was about to be completed. It had been a wonderful experience, and this work was probably the one with less creative differences between the four members. Freddie hadn’t hit anyone this time.

It was early, as always, and the two bandmates were alone in the studio. John carefully polished the surface of his bass. He looked at Roger every now and then, and opened his mouth to speak a few times without saying anything. John had noticed Roger’s strange behaviour around Brian a while ago, but he hadn’t been brave enough to directly ask him, afraid of being mistaken and upsetting the drummer. John suspected something, but he wasn’t sure of what he should exactly suspect.

After a few minutes of re-thinking his words and breathing deeply, John finally got the courage to clear his doubts and speak.

“You’ve been acting weird lately.” He observed Roger smiling, and laughing softly after hearing his concerned voice.

“What makes you say that?” The blond was slightly surprised. He continued playing with his drumsticks. He had that characteristic ability of a good drummer: he would always rotate the sticks on his fingers when he was bored or wanted to show off. In this case, it was most likely the first option.

“You are Brian’s best friend, right?” John inquired, and Roger laughed. It was such an obvious thing to ask, and that made Roger intrigued about this conversation and its objective. He glanced at John and saw him raising an eyebrow.

“What’s this conspiracy you’re coming up with?” He joked in response, but John was really serious. It was starting to make Roger a bit uncomfortable, and he could feel his nervousness building up slowly. Maybe he was overreacting.

“I’ve noticed how you act when he’s around.” The bassist was determined to find out whatever the hell was happening.

“Yeah, friendly stuff.” He answered quickly, sounding rather natural. He wanted to tell John and Freddie about his orientation, but he was waiting to find the right moment. Brian finding out was never in his original plan, as he wanted to tell his three friends at the same time and avoid further discussion on the subject. However, John was impatient for a clear answer, and he didn’t seem to be able to wait until the drummer decided to open up.

“Can I ask you something?” Roger nodded, trying not to hesitate. John walked up to where his bandmate was sitting, with caution. He didn’t want to trip over a wire again. “Promise me you’ll answer with the truth.”

“Now you are the one that acts weird.” He giggled nervously, and tried to avoid eye contact. John could burn him with that stare, and Roger didn’t want to tell him yet. Not because he didn’t trust him, but because he was insecure.

“Just promise it.” John sighed, leaving his friend with no other option than to give up.

“I promise.” He said it so weakly that it was almost a whisper.

“Is there something about you that we, Freddie, Brian and I, don’t know?” John said it so gently and kindly, that he made it really difficult to Roger to not confess right away. He stood silent, uneasily, looking at John’s eyes. “Please, Rog, answer.”

“Well, there’s something I wanted to tell you about for a long time now.” He finally confessed, stuttering a little, and speaking slowly. His voice seemed to travel down as he finished the phrase, and this only made John more worried.

Then, a sudden noise made them jump. Freddie opened the door with a violent kick and entered the studio. He was wearing his favourite coat and a hat. He could be extravagant when he was in the mood. Roger put his right hand over his chest, his heart was beating fast both from the scare and his anxiety of knowing that he would have to confess this ‘secret’ to his bandmates, once and for all.

“Good morning, dear birds!” Freddie sang loudly, and irrupted in the soundproof room. Brian followed him, a lot calmer than the lead singer.

“Hey, you look quite distressed. Is everything alright?” The guitarist asked the bassist and the drummer, when he saw their expressions.

“Roger wants to tell us something.” John didn’t doubt to say, and Roger opened his eyes wide.

“What is it?” Brian asked, as both he and Freddie brought two chairs closer to the drum kit and sat down.

“And it’s really important.” John remarked.

“I hate you, John.” Roger growled, and covered his face with his hands.

“Darling?” Freddie took off his hat. “What’s the matter?”

When his three bandmates and closest friends glanced at Roger with slightly worried eyes, he knew this was the moment to tell them. He wouldn’t be rejected, and he was conscious of how much they loved him, so he sighed and told them.


	12. Chapter 12

Freddie, John, and Brian waited, impatiently, for a response. Roger still covered his face with his hands and wanted to strangle John for putting him in such a situation. Separating his fingers a bit, his blue eyes could be seen between them as he watched the three musicians’ slightly concerned expressions.

“I can’t if you stare at me like that.”

“Alright, dears, turn around.” Freddie ordered and snapped his fingers, as he turned on his chair and faced the other side of the room. Brian and John did the same. They were trying not to get their friend even more nervous than he already was, and they would always do silly things in order to lighten those types of situations and make everything easier. “We’re listening.”

“I’m...” The drummer cleared his throat. He finally uncovered his face, and his voice came out in a little whisper, almost inaudible. “I’m into guys.”

“You what?” Freddie looked at John and winked, then smiled. The bassist gave a soft nudge to Brian, who gazed back at him and smiled as well. The three friends had noticed Roger was starting to tear up, and they were determined to change that.

“I’m gay.” He muttered.

“You are what?” The lead singer asked again, even though he had clearly heard the drummer’s voice.

“What did you say?” Joining Freddie, John asked. This was starting to desperate Roger, and his tears were starting to vanish as well as his anxiousness and fear.

“We can’t hear you.” Brian continued the band’s innocent and goofy attempt to lift up their drummer’s spirit.

“Say it louder!” Freddie sang, encouragingly.

“I’m in love with a man, damn it!” Roger almost screamed, and his three bandmates turned around with exaggerated surprised faces.

“I thought you were in love with your car!” The guitarist exclaimed.

“Have you been having an affair? Oh my, that car must feel betrayed!” Freddie said, like he was some kind of old lady at a celebrity gossip television programme.

“Blimey, Roger, you naughty boy!” John pointed at him with his finger, accusingly.

The drummer simply started to laugh, and the rest of the band got up to hug him so tight Roger thought his ribs had been broken. He was no longer fearful, and his insecurity was completely gone. Queen was good at lifting spirits and drawing smiles.

“You worried me so much, why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?” The bassist, relieved.  

“I guess I’m still coming to terms with it.” He explained, without any trail of shame, knowing his friends would understand.

“I know how difficult it is.” Freddie smiled kindly, and put one hand on Roger’s shoulder. He had been through many things, not quite nice, involving his sexuality and the harassment of the normally horrible press. He knew better than anyone how difficult it was to make peace with yourself after such a realization, and the effort this implied. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back.”

“Thank you so much.” He cheered, grinning.

“Don’t thank us.” The singer responded.

“You know we love you, do you?” Brian said sweetly, and Roger’s heart melted.

“I do.”

“I knew he was too pretty-faced to be straight!” Freddie sounded like he had discovered some scandalous news, and threw his hands in the air.

“Our precious boy, now we’ll have to defend him from all those crazy guys out there!” The guitarist continued, as Roger watched, laughing.

“I’m prepared for the mission.” John affirmed confidently.

“Are you going to continue or we can start working?”

“The first time ever Roger actually wants to work.” Freddie sounded astonished.

“Let’s make good use of that!” Brian proposed, and the whole band agreed.

It was a particularly entertaining day. Queen was starting to practise for the upcoming tour. Its purpose was the promotion of their new album, now named _A Kind Of Magic._ John had tripped over wires again, but that wasn’t more than a matter of laughs. The musicians could notice their own improvement, and it motivated them to continue working. After around eight hours, Queen was exhausted, but happy.

“So, we’ll call it a night.” Freddie sighed, and took his coat. “Great work today, my birds.” He said goodbye to each member, and before closing the door, he stopped. “Oh, Roger…”

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you.” You could tell those words were being said from the bottom of his heart. But this was too cheesy for Freddie, so he had to finish it in a weird note. “Finally, someone to talk about men with!” He closed the door before Roger could even react to his last phrase.

“I must leave, too.” John approached the drummer and hugged him before leaving. “Remember, you have my support.”

“Thank you, Deaky.”

Brian put his Red Special on its case, and looked at Roger. Now, he was searching his drumsticks on the floor. He always dropped them accidentally.

“You’ve been really brave today.” The guitarist said sincerely, and it sounded much like a congratulation for his best friend and the difficult step he had taken that day.

“I’m still nervous about it.” He confessed, and found his favourite sticks.

“Actually, I should learn from you.” Brian took the case and headed to the door.

“What do you mean?” Roger got up with his drumsticks on his hand and glanced at his friend, but Brian didn’t respond to his question.

“Goodnight, Rog.”

“Sleep tight, Bri.”

Although Brian was gone by now, Roger continued looking at the door, smiling like a teenager in love. He wasn’t sure if he should bring his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it. When he closed the studio’s door before leaving, he didn’t regret a single moment of what had happened that day. He felt lighter, calmer, and somewhat freer than that same morning. And he was more than happy about it.  


	13. Chapter 13

A dark Wednesday evening in London. Roger was yawning every five minutes and it wasn’t even time to go to sleep. It had been a busy day, which now ended with the young musician finally moving in with his bandmate. The drummer refused to get up from the sofa, and watched Brian curiously investigating the content of the boxes Roger had brought to his new home. They were really heavy and full. Next to the door, his first drum kit waited to be put in an honouring place after years of being kept and forgotten inside a wardrobe.

The house’s walls were beautifully painted in soft and neutral colours. The doors and windows were white, and the ceiling was really high up. The curtains were a dark shade of red, and Brian kept them open almost all the time. Habitually, with the exception of Brian’s practises with Red Special, it was a clam and quiet place to be in. Maybe too quiet to be in London. Roger was about to change that, once he had had some sleep and his drums were properly set up.

The guitarist stacked Roger’s books on the coffee table, in front of the sofa. Various numbers of _Molecular Biology and Evolution_ occupied its surface, impeccably clean. This general cleanness and tidiness made Roger question his life decisions. He wasn’t used to such an amount of order. It was refreshing.

 _On the Origin of Species_ now captured Brian’s attention. He opened the book and blew away a bit of dust that was resting on its pages. The drummer laid his eyes on his friend only to see him concentrated on the text. He looked so adorable to Roger, with his long dark curls falling above the pages and his lips half opened.

“Darwin was a smart lad, wasn’t he?” Roger laughed, and Brian nodded. He closed the book and left it above the others. The blond rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “I’ve probably read that book at least twenty times.”

“Such a privilege to have a scientist at home.” Brian smiled, and the box was finally empty. He was wondering if the bookshelf would be big enough to put all those new books in.

“Said the scientist.” He chuckled in response.

Brian thought, funnily, that if someone walked in and saw the library they would probably think it was the house of a wise astrobiologist instead of the home of two musicians. Roger was wearing his red scarf, and the sofa was comfortable. He was trying not to fall asleep.

“I don’t think I’ll have supper.”

“You won’t have a cigar instead of properly eating something.” Brian appeared to have read his mind, and Roger crossed his arms.

“You’re going to kill me with your non-smoking policies.” He complained. His friend had been trying to get him to stop his bad habit from the very moment he saw Roger smoking for the first time. It used to be a motive of long arguments. However, twenty years and many cigarettes later, Roger understood Brian was worried and just trying to take care of him, so he actually started to smoke less.

“You can do it in the garden, after you’ve had supper.”

“It’s chilling outside!” Roger complained again.

“Then you’ll have to stop smoking. Easy.” Brian approached the table and started putting the boxes on the floor. Roger finally sat up.

“I can’t, sorry.”

“Mr. Taylor, aren’t you a respected biologist or whatever?” The guitarist glanced at his friend, disapprovingly. “You know exactly what that does to your body.”

“Mr. May, aren’t you a respected astrophysicist or whatever?” Roger got up from the sofa, lazily. “You should be at the garden, sitting on the ground and counting stars, not correcting me.”

“I can’t, it’s chilling outside.”

“Now you understand my suffering.”

Roger wanted to cook supper, as always. He did, but when he wanted to set the table, this kitchen wasn’t helping. He could reach the top cupboards, but not the glasses inside them. He cursed under his breath a few times, trying not to call Brian’s attention, until he finally gave up and shouted.

“Everything in this house is way too tall!” Brian appeared in a matter of seconds, giggling. Roger watched him get the tallest glasses with no major complication. “Including you.”

“Or you are way too short…” He immediately realised he shouldn’t have said that, and whispered a _‘sorry’._

“You don’t want to start a war in your house.”

“Correction, _our_ house.”

Those comments always caught Roger out of guard. And he hated to blush in front of Brian.

After dinner, there was plenty of time to fool around. Brian wouldn’t let his friend smoke inside the house, so he had fun playing with pillows. He had surrounded himself in the sofa by at least ten of them, wearing Brian’s light blue pyjamas. The guitarist laughed at this scene, and Roger threw a pillow at him.

“I have to practise for when Tim comes.”

“Yeah, you’ll scare him away with pillows.”

“You’re right, I’ll just kick his arse, seems easier.” Roger invited Brian to sit beside him, maybe to watch some movies, or to insist him to play something on his acoustic guitar. Brian didn’t refuse and joined him. “And if that doesn’t work, I have you to defend me.”

“Because you’re my sweetheart now, aren’t you?” He asked, referencing that past event that could have been a lot more unfortunate than it was. The drummer remembered the day before, after leaving the studio. Brian’s words, _‘I should learn from you’._ Roger wasn’t sure of what he meant by that, but he wanted to believe this friendship could get somewhere else. Roger smiled, he didn’t even need to think to answer.

“Haven’t I always been?”


	14. Chapter 14

It had been a while since the last time Queen went to a restaurant. It was a special night, as the album’s release date was established as well as the tour’s start date. Freddie convinced the band to put on elegant clothes and go to a fancy place, a restaurant that for Roger was way too refined. There were red roses on every table, perfectly uniformed waiters, and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.  

It didn’t really matter how beautiful the place was, Roger couldn’t concentrate on it now that Brian was wearing that black jacket. It fitted him nicely. Freddie and Brian were at the other side of the rather small table, while Roger and John shared the upholstered couch-like seat that they had insisted to occupy. The two capricious friends always got what they wanted, so the lead singer and the guitarist sat on chairs.

“When do we start touring?” John asked, and took one of the red roses from the flower vase. The band was waiting for their food, and the busy chefs were as nervous as they could be now that they had such special commensals waiting for their specialities.

“In less than two weeks, after the album’s out.” Freddie answered, excitement in his voice. Tours were way more interesting than the normal activity, the band got a lot more feedback, not to mention it was a lot more funny and entertaining. “Don’t worry dears, we’ll get back to playing Scrabble in no time.”

“You’ll lose pathetically, as always.” Roger said, in a teasing tone. Playing Scrabble was a tradition, almost holy for Queen. Their Scrabble Wars were almost always won by Roger, whose knowledge in difficult biology terms and words granted him the victory. The second place was normally occupied by Brian, then John, and Freddie. He would lose at the first round every time, and try to cheat his way to the next one, creating new words and defending them as valid.   

“Calm down Goldilocks, Deaky won last time.” Brian reminded him, and the winner giggled shyly. Roger seemed offended, and nudged John.

“Goldilocks will rule again.” Roger affirmed, looking at Deaky with fake angriness. “I’ll get my title back! Enjoy your reign while it lasts.”

Finally the plates were served by an anxious waiter who appeared to be a Queen’s fan. Freddie found him to be handsome, and complimented him. The waiter was a little confused, and his face was bright red. When he left, Roger started laughing. Brian joined him, and John acted jealous.

“ _Magic Tour_ , sounds promising.” The singer stated, using his fork as a wand to point at Deaky. “Those bass lines dear, you’ll be even more of a rockstar than you already are!”

“I can’t wait!” Roger smiled.

When Freddie insisted in congratulating the chef, Brian accompanied him. The moment they were far enough, John hit Roger with the rose he had previously taken out of its vase. The drummer looked at him like a child when his parents punish him for no reason.

“You like Brian and didn’t tell me!”

“Shhh!” Roger’s eyes opened wide. He looked around but Brian was nowhere to be seen. He continued to talk in a voice that was no more than a mutter. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’m not stupid, I can tell!” John sounded indignant. “And it’s evident! You’ve been staring at him the whole evening!”

“I know I’m a horrible friend and I don’t deserve compassion but _please-_ “

“I won’t tell him.” John said and the drummer sighed, but this momentary relief wasn’t going to last long. “You will tell him.”

“Are you bonkers?” He covered his own mouth after noticing he was talking a bit too loudly. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Roger.” John tried to comfort him, and confidently said: “I’m sure he loves you with all his heart.”

“But he isn’t-”

“You’re way better than any girl.” He cut off Roger’s phrase, without a single trace of hesitation.

“Shhh, don’t talk so loudly!”

“Come on Roger, he is incapable of walking away and you know it.” John had noticed this attraction between the two a long time ago, and he had been wishing for them to get together ever since. He won’t usually push his friend, but now Roger was just being silly. There was no excuse. “Isn’t he your poodle, after all?”

“I fucking hate it when you are right.”

Brian and Freddie were back at the table. John didn’t say a thing, and Roger thanked him internally.

“So I invited some guests…” Freddie chirped like a singing bird, and his bandmates looked at him with not so friendly expressions.

“I don’t really feel like it.” Brian sighed, laying back on his chair.

“I want to sleep.” John yawned.

“It’s going to be fantastic!” The singer said in a childish fashion, trying to convince his friends.

“You always say that, and we end up losing Deaky in the middle of everything.” Roger giggled, they knew it was true.

“Please, we have been working a lot.” Freddie didn’t give up. “Some fun is good for our health.”

Brian looked at Roger, who looked at John. They sighed.

“Next time, you should ask us first.” Roger finally said, and Freddie smiled.

“I promise!”

The news didn’t take long to spread, and reach the most undesired guest’s ears.


	15. Chapter 15

Roger wasn’t good at handling alcohol, and it wasn’t a surprise for the band that he ingested it in insane amounts regardless of their opinion about it. John was the one assigned to take care of him that night, and he was sitting at the white sofa alongside his friend that could barely stand up at this point.

However, in opposition with the many times he had been drunk as he could be, Roger wasn’t happy. Today it had hit him the other way around, and he could do nothing but stare at Brian, who was at the other side of the room talking to some gals. Skinny girls with long hair, wearing tight dresses and too much makeup. Clearly they wanted whatever they could get from Brian, and Roger just wanted to get up and claim him. _He_ was _his_ sweetheart.

 _That’s not true_ he thought, his blue eyes were locked in his unreachable friend. He frowned, frustrated with himself and this disgusting feeling of insecurity. He had to get courage from somewhere, he couldn’t hide it anymore. It hurt, and he desired so badly to get a taste of his lips. Those thin lips, which always made his smile look beautiful. He just wanted to know how it felt like, to discover if they were as sweet as his words.

John sipped delicately a little bit of wine from his glass. He hadn’t got drunk once in his lifetime, he was way too careful, and alcohol didn’t really hit him as it did to Roger. Deaky watched Roger hug a cushion like an angry kid, and raised his eyebrows, curious.

“What are you looking at?” He asked, and glanced at the same direction. He saw one girl, wearing high heels that were clearly too tall for her to walk properly, smiling and trying to act seductive while talking to Brian. “Are you okay, Rog?”

 “You want me to be sincere?” Roger sighed and laid back on the sofa. He was now staring at the ceiling. Freddie’s house was too big and elegant, and the ceiling seemed to be ten meters away.

He didn’t feel like talking, really. Normally he could handle this thing of Brian being straight and all, and even make jokes about how he was suspicious the guitarist was bisexual and secretly fancied younger men. He would say _‘Rogerina’_ told him about it, and act like she was real and was his informant. Now, he _really_ didn’t feel like anything. It was quite worrying for John to see Roger’s bubbliness and brightness fading away, leaving all that raw emotion exposed.

“I’ll go out, I need to breathe.” The drummer got up, clumsily helping himself with the sofa’s arm. Deaky didn’t approve it, and took his arm to make him seat again. Roger got rid of his grip, and frowned slightly.

“You’ll hurt yourself, stay here.” John said in a kind voice, seeing his bandmate wasn’t precisely

“I’m _already_ hurting myself.” He laughed quite cynically, and didn’t give John time to respond. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The house had two floors, so he made his way down the stairs with a fake grin. At least Freddie, and apparently everyone but Roger, were having fun. Freddie stood on top of the dinner table, singing alongside the guests. He had his famous crown on, as well as a wide smile. Nothing could ruin the night for him, he was always the heart of the party.

Roger opened the door and went to the garden that was surprisingly empty. Everyone seemed to have forgotten it even existed, as the real thing was inside the house. The drummer liked that calmness, and sat down at one of the wooden benches that adorned the flowering garden. Freddie loved roses, both red and white, and had lots of them. The air was full of that distinctive fragrance, so lovely.

The entrance door of the house was open for everyone to do whatever they wanted, so nobody really checked who entered. Between the crowd, Freddie didn’t notice the undesired guests that were planning to get rid of Queen’s fun. Paul wasn’t done with him, and Tim had pending issues with Roger. Your enemy’s enemy is your friend, and if something happened to Roger, it would directly affect Freddie. And with that, Queen as a whole, including _May, that disgusting faggot._

“You look too alone in here.” Tim sat down alongside Roger, and he opened his eyes wide.

“You again?” Roger sounded not so friendly, and aimed to get up, but his dizziness because of the alcohol stopped him. “What part of ‘go away’ didn’t you understand?” 

“You will come with me.” He said without hesitation. Roger laughed sarcastically, and his head hurt like _hell._

“I most certainly won’t.”

“I wasn’t asking.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Roger?”

Brian looked for his friend in every place he could think of. He wasn’t sitting on the couch with John anymore, and as soon and the guitarist got rid of the groupie with waist-long hair that made suggestive remarks to him, he decided to go and find the drummer. He had seen that Roger wasn’t particularly happy tonight, and knowing him, he was perfectly capable of escaping Freddie’s party and ending up doing something stupid. Drunk and alone wasn’t a good combination, and Roger appeared to have a bachelor’s degree in getting in trouble, so it was better to find him as soon as possible.

The house was flooding with people nobody knew except Freddie, and in some cases not even Freddie knew who the guests where.

John was also looking for Roger when he stumbled upon Brian.

“Where’s Rog?” Deaky asked, starting to worry.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I hope he’s okay, I shouldn’t have let him go away.” He sighed.

“He looked quite sad, do you know anything about that?”

John opened his mouth to respond but immediately shut it after he realized that Brian shouldn’t know about what made Roger so uneasy. He stayed silent for a second, before shaking his head.

“Maybe it’s just the alcohol.” He said, knowing it was only a half-truth. “You know he doesn’t handle it well.”

“You look for him there, and I’ll look the other way, alright?” Brian proposed and John nodded, as they parted ways.

John went upstairs again and didn’t find the drummer. He regarded the crowd from the stairs, as being so high up was a clearer way to see everything. Their singer was laughing with a group of men, and when John looked more in detail he recognised some faces. He hurried to tell Freddie about it.

“Magic!” Freddie sang, dancing all around his house’s sitting room. John appeared almost out of nowhere and wanted to tell him something. He seemed distressed, but before he could say anything he was pushed into the crowd to dance. “Deaky, my dear, let your worries go away!”

John sighed in frustration, pulled Freddie’s arm and dragged him away from the crowd. Deaky looked really annoyed, and Freddie was just laughing everything off. Brian couldn’t find Roger, but when he noticed his two bandmates together, he approached them to ask.

“Why the fuck did you let him in?” John growled, and his bandmates were surprised by his use of language. Hearing him swear was even stranger than hearing Brian swear, and that was saying something.

“Wow, John, what’s wrong?” The singer asked, not so playfully anymore. “Who are you talking about?”

“Why is Prenter here?” John asked, in a demanding voice.

“Paul?” Freddie’s smile disappeared in less than one second, and he looked around. “Here?”

“And where’s Roger?” The guitarist inquired, getting more and more worried.

“Well, he hates Paul and vice versa, so there’s a chance he’s getting into a fight right now.” John concluded and had to supress the desire to hit Freddie with something for letting all this happen.

“Damn it, Fred!” Brian tried to remain calm and right, but he was starting to lose his patience. “Get everyone out, now!”

“ _The Sun_  is here!”

The three bandmates looked at the entrance door, only to see a young journalist searching for some interesting headers for tomorrow’s newspapers.

_‘If you can’t have him, then ruin his existence and benefit from it’_  was Paul’s philosophy after Freddie kicked him out of his life. Just a few months ago he had had an interview with  _The Sun_ , in which he had revealed painfully specific details from Freddie’s life and sexual preferences. He told everyone those secrets that the singer had trusted him enough to share, and declared that he had probably contracted AIDS by now. He exchanged all that sensitive data for a few millions. Freddie was both betrayed and heartbroken. Roger had always said that Paul was a devil’s spawn, but he didn’t expect Tim to be nearly like him.

 “Just what we need at the moment.” Brian said sarcastically.

Queen’s reputation had suffered enough after those unfortunate interviews, but Tim wanted to go even further. Now that he couldn’t have Roger, at least he could reveal some interesting news to the press. Paul was keen on helping with this, so he contacted his favourite journalist. If having one member of the band that was gay could be so harmful to Queen, what about having two? Or even three?  

“Staffel?” The guitarist looked impressed, seeing Tim talking with the journalist. “Did you let him in, too?”

“Well…” Freddie didn’t know how to excuse himself at this point. He regretted not asking security to check.

“Fred, if something happens to Rog, I swear I’ll fucking kill you with my own hands.”

“Brian, calm down, please.” John intervened, holding his arm. “It’s okay, just-“

“ _The Sun_ , live from London.” The crowd made a circle around the journalist, Tim disappeared, and Roger stood next to her. He looked confused. “We are here with Roger Taylor, who will either debunk or confirm the last rumours we’ve heard about his private life.”


	17. Chapter 17

“We’ve got to help him!” John exclaimed, as the journalist held the microphone in front of Roger. The drummer looked around trying to find his friends, as he clearly couldn’t do this by himself. His face was flushed, and it made his blue eyes stand out more.

“Leave it to me.” Brian ordered in a firm voice, and his two bandmates looked up at him.

“What are you going to do?” Freddie asked, not really sure if Brian’s improvised plan, whatever it was, could be successful. However, the guitarist was good at coming up with good ideas in just an instant, and especially when it came to get his friend and sweetheart out of trouble.

He didn’t answer, and approached Roger. The journalist recognised Brian, and grinned knowing that her boss would probably be charmed by her work if she could get what she was looking for. Brian was about to say ‘ _good evening_ ’ when she desperately asked her question, that sounded more like a demand. Brian couldn’t help but be even more disgusted with all this, but he managed to keep his smile on.

“Do you want to say something to clarify all this controversy?”

“I’m afraid you’ve chosen a rather unreliable source to get a headline.” He said, knowing that Tim and Paul would most certainly hear this. Not now, because they had escaped like cowards after putting Roger in this difficult position, but once this moment was nothing more than a funny anecdote in Queen’s book.

“What are you doing, Brian?” Roger asked, his voice raspy as always. He blinked a few times, it was clear that he was going to have one hell of a hangover the next day. The guitarist, who was standing next to him, surreptitiously passed his arm around Roger in what looked like a friendly gesture.

“Are these rumours true?” She questioned the two men.

“Regardless, it doesn’t give you permission to harass my drummer.” Brian stated. She seemed offended by this response and frowned. “He can’t answer your questions right now. He isn’t in the greatest condition, as you can clearly see.”

"Does that mean you-“ 

“In case we were something, why is that so controversial?” He said, and Roger’s face flushed even more. "Do you think you have the right to come and invade a couple's space just to get some information?" 

"So the rumours-“

“I don’t deny them, nor do I confirm them.”

Freddie and John were already saying goodbye to the guests. John was respectful and patient, while Freddie just kicked everyone out and didn’t mind to insult them in the process. Deaky warned him to keep it down, giggling a little.

"Now, it would be very kind of _The Sun_ if you agreed to leave without me calling the police.” Brian said in a voice that was kind, but still upset the journalist.

“That’s all, then.” She said, and her companion turned off the camera. She gave Brian a dirty look, just to insult him and leave. It didn’t go as Tim and Paul wanted it, and _The Sun_ wouldn’t have an interesting title for tomorrow’s news. Or maybe they would have one, twisting and putting Brian’s words out of context.

Once everyone left and Queen was alone again, everything seemed to be calm and quiet. Roger was asleep, resting his head on John’s shoulder as they were on the sofa, when Brian decided that it was time to leave. He gently caressed Roger’s hair, not really wanting to wake him up. He looked relaxed in his sleep.

“You really stood up for our boy.” Freddie said, smiling. “How could you think about what to say so quickly?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Brian laughed quietly, and John glanced at him. “Let’s just say I’m creative."

“What do you mean?” The singer inquired.  
Brian looked at Roger, caressed his hair again, then glanced at his friends and grinned shyly. John seemed to understand Brian immediately and his expression changed to a surprised one, but Freddie was confused.

“Yes! I knew it!” Deaky celebrated quietly, smiling widely.

"What is going on?”

“I do feel… _something_ … for Rog.” The guitarist explained. “And I... don’t mean it the friendly way.”

"Oh my God!” Freddie almost shouted. “That explains why you act so fucking weird when he’s around!”

Brian shushed Freddie. Roger moved a little, and after some minutes, opened his eyes. He yawned and wanted to go back to sleep, but Brian didn’t let him. They helped him to go downstairs, and he precariously walked towards the door. 

"We can take you home, if you want.” John offered.

“No, I think I’ve got this.” Brian smiled, and Roger was almost falling asleep again.

“Be careful.” Freddie chuckled. “See? I knew this party was a good idea.”

“Shut up, Fred, please.”

The two friends got into Roger’s car, and the guitarist drove them back home. Brian didn’t know if Roger was going to remember what happened, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Brian knew he had to tell him sometime soon, but he didn’t thought it would be that soon. They returned to their house while listening to some tracks of _Wish You Were Here_ on the radio. Roger hummed between yawns.


	18. Chapter 18

_One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal_

Roger woke up before Brian did, and found that they were sharing his bed again. With another person, Roger would have felt insecure. After all, when the drummer got drunk he was pretty malleable and more irresponsible than usual. However, he knew Brian was incapable of harming him, and would never take advantage of his dizziness to do something out of the norm. It wasn’t the first time Brian had taken care of him like this, but it was definitely the most meaningful one for both of them.

_One golden glance of what should be_

The drummer stared at Brian’s face, analysing every centimetre of his complexion. He couldn’t find one thing he didn’t like. He always seemed to be, or straight up was, perfect to Roger’s eyes. When he saw his friend was waking up, he quickly turned around and faced the other direction. He pretended to be asleep, but Brian knew he was awake.

_One shaft of light that shows the way_

“Good morning, Goldilocks.” Brian’s voice was low and calm. Roger felt chills by just hearing him. “How are you feeling?”

It would be rather weird to say ‘ _fantastic_ ’, so Roger went for a simpler and less descriptive answer.

“Fine.” He said and sat up, only to yawn after.

“Are you sure?” Brian questioned, seeing Roger placing a hand on his forehead. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.“

_No mortal man can win this day_

As Roger sat down at the table, occupying his usual place close to the window, he couldn’t get the previous day’s events out of his mind. He watched Brian preparing tea, his long curls falling over his back like a dark cascade. He didn’t know, but Brian was just as nervous as he was. He was also overthinking, anxious about what happened, worried that maybe Roger was angry at him for almost exposing his sexuality in front of a camera. He should have denied everything, and not leave it in a neutral place. The guitarist tried to focus on not dropping the kettle, and poured water in two cups. 

“What about yesterday?” Roger suddenly asked, breaking the silence, in his raspy voice. The same voice that could make Brian go crazy, and now made his hands shake slightly.

_The bell that rings inside your mind_

He accidentally boiled one of his fingers, from his right hand. He said something under his breath, almost inaudibly. Probably cursing himself for being distracted. Roger couldn’t hear him.

_Is challenging the doors of time_

“Yesterday?” Brian sounded too surprised for his own opinion. He pretended his fingers didn’t hurt and cleared his throat. “Well, I officially hate that former boyfriend of yours.” He smiled, even though he was still turning his back on Roger and he couldn’t see his face.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no, don’t be sorry.” He cut Roger’s words, and laughed softly. “I’m just playing... well, not  _completely_ , but you know what I mean."

Roger also laughed a little. Brian put the cups on the table and sat at the other side, in front of his friend. The drummer smiled shyly, and said his next sentence weakly, in almost a whisper. 

“Thank you for defending my drunk arse.”

“No problem.” Brian chuckled.

“I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t.” He sipped a bit of tea and smiled. “That’s what friends do, don’t they?”

_The waiting seems eternity_

Silence took place. Neither of them knew what to say, even though they wanted to tell each other the same thing. Neither of them wanted to come across as bonkers or desperate, even though they totally were at each other’s feet. Brian’s creativity to say things quickly vanished completely, making him feel lost and nervous like a child missing his mother.

_The day will dawn of sanity_

“Remember that s-song?” Roger stuttered a bit, and avoided eye contact by looking at his cup. “The m-magical one.”

“Yes, what about it?” Brian tried to sound as natural as possible, and he was a good actor. Roger, on the other hand, wasn’t.

“It w-was never about Tim.”

The drummer’s confession almost made Brian sigh in relief, but he didn’t. He blinked a few times, still surprised.

“Never?”

“Never.”

Brian remembered how Roger cried before falling asleep the same night they went to the observatory. Whoever the song was about was rejecting Roger, and Brian disliked that person without even knowing it was him.

“Then who’s the subject?” He asked, innocently. “Do I know him?”

_This rage that lasts a thousand years_

“You do, you know him pretty well.” Roger smiled. “He’s a talented musician.”

“Is he?” Brian inquired, trying to think about all the talented musicians he knew.

“And he’s tall, maybe a bit too much.” Roger made a simple description of his song’s inspiration, and Brian attentively listened. “He’s thin, and has crazy hair.”

“Oh, I see...” He realized the truth, and giggled. Then he rested his chin on his right hand, like he was still trying to find out who his bandmate was taking about.

“He also has a wonderful smile and a precious voice.” Roger affirmed, and imitated Brian’s posture.

“Wow, that lad sounds amazing.”

"And he wears clogs all the time.” Roger added, and Brian gasped. 

“He could definitely be my friend!”

The two friends burst out laughing. 

_Will soon be gone_

“So yeah, the song’s actually about you, silly.” Roger confessed, and Brian’s cheeks went a little red.

“About me?”

“Well, it is kind of weird...” Roger started his pointless attempt to justify his writings. “I mean, not weird in that sense...” He couldn’t explain it without sounding cheesy, but he really tried. “I just wanted to...” Brian was glancing at him and sighing like a teenager in love. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“How?” Brian asked, and pressed his own cheeks. “Like this?”

“Stop, goofball!” Roger laughed. “I’m trying to tell you something!”

“I’m listening!”

The drummer went silent for a minute, re phrasing his thoughts inside his head before speaking. He couldn’t, shouldn’t, and wouldn’t ruin this. He managed to take all the courage he had, and started to leave his insecurity behind.

“The other day, when we went to the observatory...”

“Yes?” Brian smiled, toothless, and Roger couldn’t focus because of it.

He shook his head, inhaled, and asked.

“Was that a date or something?”

Brian thought about it for a couple seconds. 

“Maybe.”

He got up to leave his empty cup in the sink, and Roger followed him quasi-indignantly. When he turned around and saw Roger again he was met with the mixture of his playful frown and childish smile, along with his profound blue eyes. The most gorgeous human being in the Earth's surface was, for Brian, none other than Roger. 

_This flame that burns inside of me_

“Don’t ‘ _maybe_ ’ me!” He pressed Brian’s chest with his index finger. “Answer, you’re messing with my-

“What did that night mean to you?”

Roger stepped back, unsure of what to respond. It meant a lot for him, maybe too much. Maybe he was getting his hopes up over nothing.

“I don’t know.” He lied.

"You’re doing that with your hair, and you just looked down.” Brian said, and chuckled. 

Roger was defeated, he knew it. No more playing around. For a moment, he felt like he was a little kid again. He wished to take it all back, to be able to fall in love with another person, to not have to go through this, to not risk their friendship, to just be back to normal. To go back to  _Smile_ ’s beginnings, before being mesmerized by Brian’s existence.

However, when he saw his favourite hazel eyes watching him, he couldn’t help it.

“I never thought I would fall in love... and I never thought it would be with  _you_.”

Brian felt how incredible it is to be alive. He was shocked by his bandmate’s words, and stared at him as Roger lowered his head and blankly looked at the floor. The guitarist smiled widely, knowing this meant a complete change in the game.

“Was that what you wanted to tell me?”

Roger nodded.

“Can I tell you something, too?”

“Sure."

_I’m hearing secret harmonies_

Brian cupped Roger’s face, making him look up. He saw his pupils dilate, and his sad expression change to a surprised one.

He gently pressed his lips against Roger’s, in the sweetest way that was humanly possible. Slowly, softly. Roger felt free to bury his hands on Brian’s curls, as they closed their eyes and finally tasted what the love they had for each other was like.

They separated their lips, and their noses bumped together. They both smiled stupidly, their faces blushing as they laughed.

“Am I dreaming?” Roger asked, caressing Brian’s hair and grinning.

“No.” The guitarist did the same, passing his fingers through the blond locks. “Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t think so.”

Roger surrounded Brian’s neck with his arms and dragged him down to kiss him a second time. Definitely, it was the start of a new life for both of them. Deaky was right.

As they stood up facing each other, Brian took his bandmate’s hands.

“Would you like to visit the observatory again, Mr Taylor?” Brian smiled, intertwining his fingers with Roger’s. “We can call it a date, if you want.”

"I would love to, Mr May.” He answered. “It would be  _a kind of magic_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun!  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> See you next time! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Please comment, I love to read comments!


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